


Surrender (Breached Boundaries #6)

by Dusk Peterson (duskpeterson)



Series: The Three Lands [18]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Bards, Character(s) of Color, Cousins, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Female Character of Color, Female Protagonist, Friendship, Gen, Goddesses, Gods, Guards, Het, Lords, Male Character of Color, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Music, Nonbinary Character(s), Older Character, Original Fiction, Original Het, Original Trans Character(s) - Freeform, POV Character of Color, Princes, Princesses, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Romance, Servants, Soldiers, Spies, Trans, Transgender, War, abuse recovery, ambassadors, don't need to read other stories in the series, gen - Freeform, ladies, original gen, slavefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26808481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskpeterson/pseuds/Dusk%20Peterson
Summary: "'For a woman who spends most of her time listening to other people talk,' he said, 'you have a special talent for always saying the right thing.'"The song has ended . . . except for one important part.After years of suffering as a slave, and after years of escaping from her changeable cousin the Prince, Serva has finally found her peace, it seems. She is safe now, in all the ways she sought to be safe.But certain mysteries have yet be solved. The chief mystery is herself.Boilerplate warning for all my stories.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character & Original Male Character
Series: The Three Lands [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/15107
Kudos: 2
Collections: A Whisper to the  Dark Side, Badass women centric stories, Chains: The Powerfic Archive, Female Characters Deserve Better, Focus on Female Characters, Queer Characters Collection, Slavefic Central, Trans Stories, Women being awesome, stories of our own: works featuring nonbinary and trans characters





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _**Author's note:** This is the sixth and final story in _Breached Boundaries _, a volume in the Three Lands series. You don't need to read the other stories in the series to understand this one._

( _Melody:_ Replaces the musical theme with the primary sub-theme. _Lyrics:_ Reverse the settlement.)  


**TESTIMONY OF ANDREW, AMBASSADOR OF KORETIA**

Brian, some matters I will not share, even with you.  


**TESTIMONY OF ELIZABETH, HIGH LADY OF THE DAXION COUNCIL**

To Brian son of Cossus, Royal Clerk to the Chara of Emor: 

I regret to report that, while Daxis's present war continues with Koretia, I am unable to discuss the war with you. 

On the other subject of which you have enquired: It is a matter of public record that the council of Daxis has not yet confirmed Prince Richard's right to the throne, following his uncle's death in battle. He has not requested such confirmation, instead stating that he wishes to engage in a period of mourning and penitence. We do not at this time have any alternative candidate to consider for the throne. 

Regarding the Prince's cousin: I cannot say whether her account for why she fled the Daxion palace is correct or not; I can only confirm that she did indeed leave this palace on the night in question, and that she did so by subterfuge. (My free-servant has since confessed to aiding her in her departure.) I have had no contact with the Prince's cousin since she was very young. The reports you have heard are correct that she has won the respect and affection, not only of many inhabitants of this palace, but also of many Daxions she encountered on her travels north. 

I hope to be able to discuss related matters with your High Lord upon my arrival in Emor next month. Please give my greetings to Lord Carle and my respects to your Chara. On behalf of my council, I thank you for your invitation to the Chara's enthronement. 

Elizabeth, High Lady of Daxis  


**TESTIMONY OF BRIAN, ROYAL CLERK TO THE CHARA**

I have been unable to find anyone who is willing to provide a narrative that will finish the chronology of the war between Daxis and Koretia, which I started many months ago, before the arrival of the Princess of Daxis at the Chara's palace. I am therefore forced to supply the final facts myself, although it is unusual for a historian to draw upon his own memory to supply facts. 

To summarize the situation as it stood on the eve of the Chara's enthronement: The Chara had given refuge to Serva, natural daughter of the late King Leofwin of Daxis. I hesitate to use the word "illegitimate" to describe her birth status, for the land of Daxis recognizes two types of marriage: public marriage, in which the vows are sung before witnesses, and private marriage, in which there are no witnesses to the sung vows. King Leofwin's marriage to his beloved slave was of the latter sort. 

"Princess Serva" is how I will term King Leofwin's daughter in these chronicles, for that was the title which the Chara graciously granted to the former slave when she first arrived at his palace. The princess held an uneasy position in Daxis, for her cousin, Prince Richard, appeared to fear that she would marry a man who would claim the throne in his place, even though King Leofwin had named Richard as heir before his death. All evidence pointed to the likelihood that the Prince would eliminate this threat by removing any likelihood that another man would want to marry her. 

Prince Richard's threats against Princess Serva's virtue caused that lady to flee Daxis, first to Koretia, and then – upon the advice of Koretia's ruler, the Jackal – to Emor. Her escort on that dangerous journey north was Perry, the Jackal's special friend. Perry was normally mute and childlike, but he had demonstrated many times over the years that he held the courage of a full-grown man. He protected her on his journey, not only with his sword, but also with his singing voice, which was as gifted as the voice of any Daxion bard. Nonetheless, it was clear upon his arrival at the Chara's palace that he greatly yearned to be home at the side of the Jackal, who had first befriended Perry when he was a homeless boy, living on the streets of Koretia's capital. The bond between those two men had grown close over the years – as close, in its own way, as the bond between the Jackal and his blood brother, Lord Andrew. 

I have said nothing about Lord Andrew until now because he was absent during most of this period, having apparently fled out of fear of being drawn into entanglements with Princess Serva. 

I choose to be delicate in indicating the nature of that fear, although all the world knows that Lord Andrew underwent irreparable harm to his bodily puissance as a boy. This would have left him in a most uneasy position in Emor, where he spent his youth – for the Chara's law, you will understand, regards people like Andrew to be neither male nor female, a state pleasantly embraced by most people who find themselves in this position. 

Andrew, however, firmly rejected such a legal state and insisted from the start that he was entirely male, if not in body, then at least in mind. Fortunately for him, he was treated as a man, both by the prior Chara and by the current one, James. So there was no legal reason, in any of the Three Lands, that he should not have pursued a bonding of some sort with Princess Serva. 

All of this may seem trivial in comparison to the conflict between Koretia and Daxis, which had already left hundreds dead in battle. Yet if you recall that Prince Richard feared a rival for Princess Serva's hand, and if you keep in mind that Lord Andrew – close friend to the rulers of Emor and Koretia, while subject to neither ruler – was widely considered to be the most powerful man in the Three Lands, you begin to see the dilemma that Emor faced in providing refuge to Princess Serva. 

Would Princess Serva allow herself to be bedded by Prince Richard? Would she instead marry Lord Andrew? And if she married Lord Andrew, how would Prince Richard react? 

That was the question which Emor faced on the eve of the Chara's enthronement, when we hosted, not only Princess Serva and her escort Perry, but also Prince Richard, who was to represent Daxis at the enthronement ceremony. 

Amidst all this tension, Lord Andrew silently slipped into the Chara's palace. It was like throwing a torch onto an oil-slicked pyre.  


**CHAPTER ONE**

It was fitting, I decided afterwards, that my marriage bed would turn out to be two cloaks, one above and one below, flung hastily onto the stone floor of a hidden passage leading from the slave-quarters. 

I turned my head to look at Andrew. He was propped up on one elbow, smiling; he had barely stopped smiling since he first kissed me. His fingers were tracing letters upon my arm. 

"What are you doing?" I asked. 

"Writing my name on you," he said. "Since I'm a man of no land, I thought that I ought to marry you in accordance with the customs of all the Three Lands. In Daxis, the marriage vows are sung, in Koretia they are exchanged through blood – we've already had the song and the blood – and in Emor the vows are written on documents." He finished writing his name three times for each of the languages. Each time his name remained the same. 

"So which of the Three Lands have you been in for these past four months?" I asked. 

"Need you ask? I've been visiting the bards." Andrew leaned back against the floor, placing his hands behind his head as a cushion. I turned over onto my stomach, the better to see him, and watched the soft firelight play against his face. Andrew's smile turned wry. "I told myself that I was leaving you in order to learn more about the forbidden passage in the Song of Succession – strange, after all these years of deceiving others, to be on the receiving end of my lies. I travelled around, filling myself with as many songs as I could hear and trying to understand what the Daxion people were like." 

"Did you discover anything?" I asked. 

"About the forbidden song? No. But I found that I was beginning to think like a Daxion. I finally ended up in the wilds of southwest Daxis, far from any people, and I felt the tremendous need to pray. So I went deeper into the marshland. There I saw animals so ancient that they no longer exist anywhere else in the world. They had no fear of me; they had never seen men before. When I reached the heart of the marshland, I remembered, too late, that I had always prayed to the Unknowable God in whatever tongue or manner that the gods were prayed to in the land I was visiting. So I had no choice, in the end, but to give the Song Spirit what she wanted." He turned over on his side to face me, laying the back of his scarred fingers against my cheek. "The Song Spirit brings truth. Afterwards, I recognized that all my fears about whether I would make a good husband to you were mere masks, hiding my deepest fear. And I decided that, if I could endure the sound of my high voice, I had no excuse for keeping that from you. So I started back toward Emor. It occurred to me halfway through my journey, though, that my latest betrayal of you might have been one too many. I nearly decided to move to the barbarian lands and spend my life in the icy wastes there, rather than face your horrified expression when you saw me again." 

"That," I said, "was self-deception on a grand order." 

"Well, I nearly did encounter such an expression – at any rate, I saw it on the face of your cousin the King when we crossed paths this morning." 

"The Prince," I murmured. 

"No, he styles himself as King now. I met him in Brian's quarters, making the proper changes to the enthronement documents. Brian didn't even have a chance to finish introducing me; your cousin took one look at me and stormed out of the room. I think that he recognized me from our one previous meeting in the Daxion palace dungeon and realized for the first time how far back my song has been intertwined with yours." 

"But—" 

My voice caught in my throat. His smile fading, Andrew asked, "What is it?" 

"He swore that he wouldn't," I whispered. "He said that he wouldn't anger the Song Spirit by becoming King; he told me so last night." 

"You spoke to your cousin last night?" Andrew's face had become unreadable once more. 

I nodded, laying my face down on the back of my hands. "He asked me to marry him. He wanted me to be his Consort." 

After a while, my thoughts drifted far enough away from the Prince for me to become aware that Andrew had not replied. I looked over at him and saw that he was staring past me at the fire. "Well," he said, "he offered you more than I can give you." 

I lifted my head and gathered my breath quickly. "Andrew . . ." 

He picked up one of my hands and kissed the fingertips. "Fear not; I am not going to return to my valley of self-pity. Looking at the matter in the objective, cold-blooded manner for which I am famed, I think that I would make a better husband for you than your cousin would. I'm just sorry that my courage doesn't extend far enough to have provided us with a witness, so that we could be married in the law." 

"Do you really think that, after all my entanglements with Daxion law, I would care whether I was married in the law?" I said, my mouth quirking. "Daxion law has almost been the death of me. I would rather spend my days with a man I have married in the Spirit." 

Andrew bowed his head toward me. "Then I will do as the Princess wishes. I confess, though, that I'm curious to know what reason you gave your cousin for not marrying him." 

He was still holding my hand against his chest. I curled my fingers around his and said softly, "I told him that I could only marry a man who sang the marriage song to me in truth." 

For the second time that afternoon, I felt a sudden pain as Andrew's hand crushed me. He quickly released me and bent forward to lightly kiss me on the forehead. "For a woman who spends most of her time listening to other people talk," he said, "you have a special talent for always saying the right thing." 

"It's true," I protested. 

Andrew's face remained in its usual unemotional hardness, but there was a lightness in his eyes. "I wouldn't doubt it. Everything you say is true." 

The faintest of noises arose above us, a note repeated several times. Andrew caught my querying look and said, "The palace trumpets, calling the lesser free-men to the enthronement. They'll be calling the high noblemen next; we had better make haste if we're not to miss the ceremony." 

"You make haste," I said, reaching over to seek the pin that had held my hair up. "The council was having trouble finding room for everyone, so I told Lord Carle that they could use my place for someone else." 

"Then come as my guest," said Andrew, rising and reaching toward his clothes. "All of the foreign guests are entitled to bring their wives or husbands. If the council lords assumed that I would have no wife, that's their dilemma. Besides, there will be plenty of room since the Koretian party didn't make it here." He stopped in the act of tying on his breechcloth. His voice tightened as he asked, "What are you looking at?" 

"You," I said serenely. "If you didn't want me to admire your body, you ought not to have married me." 

He finished tying the cloth then, saying, "I suppose I'll get used to it. You're the first person to see me this way since I obtained my freedom and had any choice in the matter. You alone," he concluded lightly, "will be witness to the naked truth about me." 

o—o—o

The trumpets calling the noblemen to the enthronement had already sounded by the time we reached the Court of Judgment. We would have been even later if we had stopped at my chamber so that I could change, but we decided that, since the palace slaves had been forced to witness Andrew in his nobleman's tunic, the noblemen would have to settle for seeing me in my slave's tunic. 

This decided, we saved further time by not trying to squeeze through the crowds clogging the great, gold entranceway on the east side of the court, which faced the main entrance to the palace. Instead, Andrew led us through the corridor that wrapped around the back of the court to a small entrance on the north side, where the highest ranked guests were being admitted and heralded. 

Even this area was crowded. Many of the guests, it appeared, were receiving their greatest pleasure in seeing who the Chara had invited to stand in the section of honor. Suddenly feeling abashed by all the gazes on me, I ducked my head and followed Andrew blindly toward the door. We had nearly reached the front when Andrew said, "Wait here a minute." He left me standing several paces from the door, with a clear view of the court. 

This was the first time I had ever stood at floor-level to the crowded court. Before me I could see the enthronement guests, standing in rows so neat that they looked like Lord Carle's orchard trees. Beyond them, rising like a mountain over the forest of bodies, was the Chara's dais, topped by his white marble throne. Brian was already up there in his capacity as the Chara's clerk, sorting documents on a small table near the throne. On the previous occasion I had visited, he had been forced to squint from the dim light thrusting its way through the alabaster ceiling, but on this night the court was bright with torchlight. Some rather odd flute music was rising above the hum of chatter; I recognized this as originating from one of the barbarian nations, having heard such music at my father's palace once when I was younger. My father had made critical remarks about modern works and had made sure the flute player was sent on his way the next morning. I found myself wondering what Richard, whose love of music was deep and abiding, thought of so strange a tune. 

The music was punctuated at intervals by the sound of the herald announcing the entrance of noble guests. The herald paused, and I saw that he was talking in an undertone with Andrew. Standing next to him was the council porter, flipping through several sheets of paper and looking distressed. He stepped into the aisle and gestured wildly at Brian, who had just reached the bottom of the throne and was heading toward the vestibule door. Glancing over and seeing Andrew, Brian merely waved his hand in permission of whatever was being asked. 

After more negotiations, Andrew rejoined me, saying, "I'm sorry about that. The Jackal is the only person who ever remembers my correct title, and of course your name wasn't on the guest list at all. Are you ready?" 

I was surprised at this first indication that Andrew cared what his noble title was, but I simply nodded. His palm touched me lightly on the small of my back as he guided me to the door. We paused at the doorway, and the herald, in a voice that reached to the farthest ends of the enormous court, cried out, "Serva, Princess of Daxis, and Andrew, Lord and Ambassador of the God's Land." 

The voices stopped as though the Chara's executioner had just cut everyone's head off. Only the eerie flute music continued in the background. For a moment I was overcome with two embarrassments: firstly, that my name had been given the position of honor over Andrew's, and secondly, that everyone in the court had turned to look our way. Then I looked at Andrew, still holding his hand behind my back and watching me with his usual unreadable expression. He said nothing, but his steady gaze opened my eyes to what had happened. 

Now I understood why Andrew had spent so much time making sure that our titles were correctly announced. By linking our names together in this public way, he was announcing our marriage. 

I forgot about everyone watching us: I simply smiled at him, warmed throughout with happiness. Only the renewed murmur of voices around me made me aware that my action had been noticed and correctly interpreted. Well, so much the better. 

Andrew's expression did not change, but I felt his hand tighten on my back as we followed the porter down the aisle to the front of the crowd. Waist-level metal fences had been set in place to divide the court into separate sections; the porter opened the gate leading to the section directly to the right of the dais, which placed us at the northwestern end of the court. The porter pointed, and I sighted a large gap in the front row, past several people wearing dominion clothes. Andrew murmured his thanks and started forward, greeting the dominion guests as we squeezed past them. They all seemed to know who he was. Once we had stopped, he looked around slowly, as though he were a spy scouting enemy territory, before saying quietly, "This is certainly a change for me from the Chara Peter's enthronement." 

I knew what he meant. I could see the glint of sheathed blades around us, and I remembered that women were not the only palace dwellers who could not bear free-man's weapons and therefore had been barred from past enthronements. 

I replied, "This is a wonderful view of the throne. I feel quite guilty. Do you suppose someone will remember we were originally palace slaves and throw us out?" 

The words were no sooner out of my mouth than I saw the porter hurrying toward us again. He came around to the front of the barrier, leaned over, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Lord Andrew, I don't know what to do. All of the lords and high officials are already gathered in the vestibule. If I interrupt them now, Lord Carle will have me in the execution yard by dawn." 

"What is the problem?" asked Andrew. 

The porter glanced uneasily at me. I walked a few paces away, over to the empty space on the right side of our row. As I turned back to look at Andrew, I saw that the porter had already explained his problem and was beginning to edge away; the cause may have been Andrew's expression, which had grown cold. As I came over to rejoin him, Andrew said in a low voice, "Your cousin refuses to enter the foreign guests' area while we are here." 

I stood on tiptoe and craned my neck; I could barely see a bit of white cloth in the aisle. I told Andrew, "I think we should leave. I don't want to cause problems for James." 

Andrew nodded. "Don't worry; I know another place where we can watch the enthronement." He took my hand; holding it firmly, he began to squeeze his way back the way we had come. 

I was dreading the moment when we would reach the aisle, but in fact I doubt that Richard even noticed me. All of his wrath was reserved for Andrew, who kept his eyes as carefully fixed on him as though he expected my cousin to draw his sword and run him through. Never before had I seen Richard look so darkly dangerous; this must be what his enemies witnessed in the moments before he killed them. Even with Andrew's hand warm around mine, I felt myself grow cold. 

It took only an instant for us to pass this gauntlet of peril; then Andrew was pulling me quickly down the aisle. Behind us, I heard the Chara's trumpeters calling three long notes. Andrew turned to the left as we exited the doors, thrusting us through the lingering crowd there; then suddenly we were racing through the back corridor as rapidly as though Richard's subcaptain were still after us. 

After rounding two corners, I had to pause to press my hand against my side. Andrew said, "I'm sorry, but if we don't hurry, we'll cross paths with the Chara answering his call to the enthronement. No one is allowed to see the Chara today before he enters the court. Even his guards avert their eyes when he leaves his quarters." 

This was news enough to start me running again. We were now on the corridor to the south of the court, the one that intersects with the corridor leading past the Chara's quarters. As we rushed past that corridor, I glimpsed a figure enveloped by a billowing cloak; then we were beyond the danger point, and we slowed to a dignified pace as we turned the corner to walk to the main court entrance. 

This was clear by now. Everyone had entered, and I could see at a glance that there was no more room on the floor ahead of us. But Andrew took no notice of the gilded doorway. Instead, he headed beyond it for a small door guarded by a young soldier. 

"My apologies, sir," said the guard as we approached. "The balcony is available only for the free-servants to the Chara and his council." 

Andrew replied quietly, "I am Andrew son of Gideon, former free-servant to the Chara, and this is my wife." 

The guard looked at him uneasily. He obviously had never heard of Andrew – at least, not without his current title – and was uncertain whether former free-servants and their wives should be allowed through the door. For a moment, it looked as though he would bar our way for the rest of the night. Then he looked over at me, and recognition entered his face. Quickly, he stepped aside. 

I thought I saw the faintest flicker of a smile enter Andrew's eyes as we passed the guard. This time, rather than lead me, Andrew followed me up the winding stone staircase lit by torchlight. 

The sound of voices told me we were reaching the top. We emerged onto a stone balcony as crowded as the floor below, and a good deal less organized; the men on it milled around, jostling for space. At first, Andrew and I stood in the doorway to the stairs, searching for an open area. Then someone waved at us through the crowd and gestured us toward him. It was James's free-servant. 

We wriggled through the crowd – that is, we would have wriggled, if Andrew's expression had not caused the crowd before him to part like waves before a prow. We reached the Chara's free-servant and found that he was guarding a small, empty space at the front of the balcony. 

"Heart of Mercy, Andrew, I was worried you were going to be stuck in that crowd of haughty noblemen and lose out on all the good gossip flowing up here," he said. "I see that you thought the better of it in time." 

"I wouldn't have wanted to have missed out on your company, Francis." Andrew spoke with polite formality, his face rigid in the cool look he had given the inn-maid in Daxis. 

Francis, though, seemed to accept this as no insult, for he said easily, "Of course, the hottest gossip has been about you. Congratulations, by the way." 

"Thank you," said Andrew, his face relaxing somewhat. "I take it that you are already acquainted with Serva?" 

Francis smiled at me. He was twice as old as his master, with lines of humor around his eyes that matched the Chara's. "Yes, my first meeting with the Princess came when I accidentally dumped a bucket-load of ashes over her feet. I was just reciting in my mind all the places where I might seek new employment when she dropped to her knees and began helping me sweep up the mess. I immediately concluded that she must be a friend of yours." 

I expected Andrew to laugh, but when I looked over at him, I saw that his face had grown even harder than before, as unmoving as a boulder. Following his gaze, I saw that a tousled-haired man of about my age had squeezed through the crowd to Francis's side. Without looking our way, he said, "I'm sorry I'm late. Lord Neville kept me till the last minute, giving me his usual tedious speech about how Lord Carle is all to blame for the fact that the Chara isn't appointing him as the new High Lord. I can't take much more of this; I don't know what mad impulse made me leave—" 

He stopped. He had seen us now, and his gaze was hooked by Andrew's. Francis, his eyes travelling from one man to the next, said, "Andrew, I'm sure you remember Lord Neville's free-servant Curtis." 

"Of course." Andrew's voice was as cold as a northern wind. "But when last we met, he was Lord Carle's servant." 

For a moment, I could make nothing of this exchange. Then I remembered what James had told me about Lord Carle being abandoned by his friends. 

Curtis was standing motionless; only the rapid rise and fall of his chest betrayed what he was undergoing. Unlike Patrick, he did not make the mistake of excusing his past behavior. Instead, he said in a low voice, "Good day to you, Ambassador. —Francis, I don't think there's room enough for all of us in this small space. I'll find a spot further along." 

He began to sidle back through the crowd. Acting on some impulse, I stepped over and blocked his path. I need not have bothered, though; Andrew was already saying, "I'm sure there's enough space. Serva can stand in front of me." As he followed me back to the railing, he murmured in my ear, "What are you trying to do, steal my reputation as the Great Peninsula's peacemaker?" 

I was still laughing when the sound of trumpets rang through the room, much clearer than before, going up and down the scale in orderly, mathematical fashion. This was the closest thing that Emor had to music. Marching out from either side of the back of the dais came the eight trumpeters, white pennants hanging from their long, silver horns. The four pairs kept in step with each other until they rejoined at the foot of the dais. Then they turned to face the dais, and their short notes suddenly changed to three long, soaring calls. There was a stirring in the crowd, particularly from the guests who could see the area between the hidden vestibule door and the back of the throne. After a time, I saw the head of a figure begin to rise up from behind the thirty-step dais. In the next moment, James had reached the short platform at the top of the dais and was standing motionless in front of his throne. 

I looked over at the servants around us and saw that most of them, perhaps wise to the dangers of looking too long at the Chara when he was wearing his formal face, had already dropped their gaze to the pageantry that was continuing below the throne. The trumpeters had parted ways again, half going to the left corner of the dais, half to the right. Now they were singing in the entrance of other men: first Brian and the head court summoner; then, with suitable spacing, more pairs of high officials from the court, the army, and the council; and finally the thirty council lords. In each case, the men coming from either side of the dais would meet at the area directly below the throne, give a low bow to the Chara, and then go to stand to either the left or the right of the dais. 

It takes quite a while for so many men to make their entrance, even when they arrive in pairs. Before the palace officials had finished, the servants were back to talking, the sound of their voices covered by the trumpets. Andrew was asking Curtis about the foreign guests. 

"That was the Chara's idea, actually," said Curtis. "Since none of the barbarian representatives were able to come, the Chara had his soldiers search the city for visitors from the mainland to invite to the enthronement. It's surprising how many barbarians he turned up." 

"They are nearly all common folk, of course," added Francis, "but the Chara said that that was all the more reason they were likely to remember this event and carry the news back to their homelands. The council didn't much care for the idea – you can imagine what Lord Carle had to say – but the Chara distracted their attention by sweetly asking their advice on what order he should have the land's gifts presented in." 

"Gifts?" said Andrew. 

"That is another innovation, one that was proposed by the Jackal and that the High Lord actually approved of. Each land sending a representative is offering an enthronement gift. The gifts all arrived last autumn, and the council decided that they would be presented at the enthronement in accordance with the length of alliance between Emor and each land. Lord Carle took weeks in deciding how to order the presentation." 

"Well, you can't blame him," said Curtis. He was watching over the railing as the senior-most lords entered: Lord Carle and Lord Neville. I could tell that his gaze was following the High Lord rather than his own master. "It all hinged on the question of whether Koretia broke its alliance with Emor five years ago. Nobody wanted to bring up that troubled period once more – enough foolish actions were taken at that time. Lord Carle finally decided to announce Arpesh and Marcadia first, since they are imperial dominions, then Koretia, then Daxis, then the mainland nations. I think he ended up tossing a dice to figure out whether Koretia should come before Daxis or vice versa, but Daxis doesn't seem to have been offended." 

"Enthronements cause more trouble than they're worth," Francis concluded. "What was the Jackal's enthronement like, Andrew?" 

Andrew was standing behind me, his body lightly pressed against my back; I was more aware of this than the conversation taking place next to me. He said in his tightly restrained voice, "I only saw his public enthronement. His private enthronement took place while I was still living here." 

" _Before_ the Chara gave him the throne?" Curtis sounded shocked. 

I looked over my shoulder at Andrew. He was watching the Chara James, who had been standing still as a tree all this time. "In the Jackal's eyes, Koretia was given into his care from the moment that he received the god's powers; that happened in a small chapel in the Koretian priests' house, with only three of his thieves present. He refused to become Master of the Koretian Land, though, until he had received the consent of the Koretians. So once the Chara had released his hold on Koretia, the Jackal spent the first six months of his official reign travelling to each town, and meeting there with the councils of the towns and surrounding villages. Not until they had all voted to accept him as ruler did he hold his public enthronement." 

Francis laughed. "You Koretians! All of your masters are ruled by their servants. What a topsy-turvy land you live in." 

I said, "But isn't there a part of this ceremony where the High Lord asks the Emorians present for their consent to the Chara's enthronement?" 

Francis and Curtis exchanged uneasy glances. I could feel Andrew's chest vibrating behind me; he was laughing silently. I opened my mouth to tell the others about the Daxion equivalent – about the consent required by the King's Bard and Consort – but at that moment the trumpets ceased, and the servants grew quiet once more. 

The ceremony had begun, but I barely noticed what followed. My mind was still on the gifts. I was thinking that I could not marry Andrew without giving him some sort of wedding gift, but I could not think of anything he needed. He was the most powerful man in the Three Lands – I heard Richard's voice echo in my mind once more – and he could have anything he wanted for the asking. Of course, he might believe that just in marrying him I had given him the gift he most needed, but like Perry, I was not satisfied with the idea of simply being valued for myself. I wanted to give Andrew something more. 

I was dimly aware of speeches being made, people walking up and down the dais steps to carry out ceremonial gestures, oaths being taken. For me, all this was a dim background to the sound of Andrew's voice as he exchanged whispered comments with Francis and Curtis. I could feel Andrew's heart against my back. 

I came awake again when I heard Andrew asking quietly, "Isn't that the princess whom the Chara Peter nearly married?" 

I peered over the railing and saw a woman a bit younger than me, with the very pale skin and white hair common among dominion dwellers, climbing the dais to place a package in the Chara's hands. James stood as motionless as he had been throughout the long ceremony. 

"Yes, that's the one," replied Francis. "From a political point of view, it would have been a good deal better if he had married her. The Arpeshians have never forgotten the way that the Chara Peter treated their princess. It was bad enough when the Chara Peter called off his scheduled meeting with her, but his excuse was that he wasn't ready to be married. Then he promptly went off to Koretia, and there he betrothed himself to Lady Ursula." 

He paused as the herald called forth the representative from Marcadia, a soldier in full armor. Then Francis added, "The Chara thinks that the only thing preventing Arpesh from going to war against Emor is its lack of an alliance with Marcadia. It isn't a case, as with Koretia, where Arpesh simply wants its independence. The Arpeshians want revenge – they want to destroy Emor. If the Marcadians were to join with the Arpeshians . . . Well, it would be the Battle of Mountain Heights all over again." 

"I know all this." Andrew's voice was so quiet that I could barely hear him, standing as I was right next to him. 

Francis was equally quiet as he said, "I thought that you would. One thing you don't know, though, is that the Chara would dearly love to appoint you as his ambassador to Arpesh, but he's afraid to involve you in his negotiations there because he never knows where you'll be from one month to the next. He says that the Jackal advised him against asking you, telling him that you seemed so eager to wander endlessly around the Three Lands and the mainland that even he could no longer count on your being nearby when a crisis arose. The Jackal said that he could not depend on your support any more, though he valued your service more than that of any other man." 

I looked over and saw that Curtis was eavesdropping on all this, though he was pretending to watch as the Marcadian made his way back down the dais, having delivered his gift. I could not see Andrew's face, but I could feel the rise of his heartbeat as Francis made his speech – which, I knew, broke Francis's vow as the Chara's free-servant to remain silent about conversations he witnessed. After a moment, Andrew said very quietly, "Thank you, Francis. I appreciate your sacrifice in telling me that." 

Francis was saved from having to reply, for at that moment the herald cried out, "From Koretia . . . a gold replica of the Jackal's god-mask . . . presented by Lord Andrew." 

The free-servants around us, who had been busying themselves with gossip about the foreign guests, suddenly stirred and looked our way for the first time since we arrived. Behind me, Andrew said, "May the Jackal eat his dead. Carle didn't tell me about this." 

"It was probably a last-minute decision," said Curtis. "The council had to decide this afternoon how to rearrange the ceremony to account for the absence of the Koretian party. Lord Carle must have assumed that you would be willing to serve as that land's representative." 

Now the people below us were beginning to murmur. Much of the crowd was looking up toward the balcony. 

"They've seen me," said Andrew. "I'll have to go down." 

I waited for him to say more, then turned and saw that he had slipped away as silently as a Jackal's thief – or so the Koretian phrase goes. After another minute, in which the murmuring had grown like storm-waves, I sighted him directly below the balcony, walking steadily down the long aisle toward the throne. He stopped at the foot of the dais to take the gift from the hands of the council porter. On his other side, Lord Carle was waiting, his brows drawn low. The High Lord escorted Andrew up to the top of the steps and watched while Andrew handed James the gift. 

There was a long pause. From my perspective, I could see only the back of Andrew, with a bit of the Chara's body behind him. Having passed the gift on to Brian, who was standing nearby, James had returned to absolute motionlessness. Suddenly he moved, gesturing toward Lord Carle, who had been waiting several paces behind. The High Lord came forward and joined whatever conversation was taking place. The murmuring from the crowd returned. 

"The Chara is angry," said Francis in an undertone that only Curtis and I could hear. 

"How can you tell?" I asked. I still could not see James's face. 

"Look at his body." 

I did, and saw that James had broken out of the bonds of ritual that usually held him captive in the court; he was gesturing vigorously with his hands. One gesture brought Brian over to join the conversation. The High Lord nodded to something that had been said, then turned toward Brian and told him something. In the next moment, Andrew had turned away and was being escorted by Lord Carle down the dais steps. I noticed Brian go over and speak to the herald, who was perched at the corner of the dais platform. 

The guests, seeing the drama ended, settled down in anticipation of the next part of the ceremony. They did not have to wait long, for Andrew had not even reached the foot of the dais before the herald cried out: "From Enkloo . . ." 

The rest of his words were drowned out by the sudden return of the crowd's voices. This time their sound was too loud to be called a murmur. Francis said, "That's done it." 

"What's happening?" I asked. 

Francis was too absorbed in the action below to notice my question. It was Curtis who finally replied, "They've skipped Daxis." 

I followed Francis's gaze. Until this time, I had avoided looking toward the foreign guests' section. Now I could see clearly the figures of the Prince – I could not think of him as King – accompanied by his Bard, his clerk, and his High Lady. Lady Elizabeth was keeping her own counsel, Eulalee and the clerk were both excitedly talking to the Prince, and Richard had his head turned to watch the retreating figure of Andrew. 

Francis was reporting the action to the free-servants behind us who did not have a good view: "The King is speaking and shaking his head. . . . He's waiting. . . . He's a good diplomat; he's not going to do anything until he's sure that a mistake hasn't been made. He's going to see what happens next." 

He did not have long to wait. The herald, with an eagerness that suggested that he was enjoying this drama as much as the free-servants, barely waited for the Enkloo representative to turn away before he cried out, "From the Hunt—" 

He had no opportunity to complete the name this time. The crowd had grown louder, not so much at the herald's cry, as at the immediate departure of the Daxion party. The Daxions were intercepted at the north door by the guards, who politely but firmly refused to allow them to leave, demonstrating a confident air which suggested that they were accustomed to dealing with this type of crisis every day. Into the midst of the argument that followed waded Brian, who had made his own hasty exit from the dais. 

By now, nobody was paying attention to what was happening on the dais except the Chara, the High Lord, and the herald, all going through the steps of the ceremony as though nothing else was happening. The barbarian representatives who came forward looked so nervous that they were probably grateful to be upstaged; moreover, the Chara was now taking the time to exchange a few words with each of them, which was an honor they could not have expected. 

The guards were giving access to the door, and the Daxion party was leaving, but joining them was Brian, who was in animated conversation with the Prince. The trumpets below were signalling the end of the enthronement for the sake of those who had long since ceased to pay attention to the ceremony. I looked over at Francis and Curtis and saw that both of them had bleak expressions on their faces. 

There was a nudge at my elbow. Looking down, I saw that a page was prodding me aside in order to reach Francis. It appeared that he had lost his instinct to be polite, for, like a salmon fighting its way upstream, the boy had been forced to make his way through the servants rushing off the balcony to see whether there was more spectacle in the corridors. 

I caught a glimpse of the blank-masked seal as the page handed the letter to Francis. As James's free-servant tore open the letter, Curtis glanced backwards to ensure that no one was listening before he asked, "What is it?" 

"A message from the Chara, by way of Andrew. My master needs me back in his quarters; he has invited the King to visit there." Francis shoved the letter under his belt and said to Curtis, "Andrew wonders whether you could look after Serva; he and the High Lord have been summoned as well. By the Sword, we might have known that any enthronement that Andrew attended would not be a dull one." With a final quirk of a smile, Francis turned and rushed toward the stairs. 

"Well." Curtis's word came as a deep sigh. Below us, the Chara and the High Lord had left the court. The guests were slowly making their way out, their voices raised high. Curtis raised his voice as well, saying, "I know that anything following this will be an anticlimax, but which would you rather go to, the council's celebration or the lesser free-men's celebration? I can take you to either." 

Curtis's matter-of-fact question caused me to collapse into nervous laughter, but I quickly quenched this when I realized that the serious-faced servant was hurt by my reaction. I asked, "Which would you recommend?" 

Again Curtis looked around before replying. "If Lord Carle has been summoned to the Chara, then Lord Neville will be in charge of the council's celebration, and— Well, he'll want to make a few speeches about the importance of loyalty to the Chara and how those who betray him should never be forgiven. If you're looking for lighter entertainment, you might prefer the lesser free-men's celebration." 

"Light entertainment is just what I need," I said. "That, and a place where I can find some wine. Either wild-berry or wall-vine will do."  



	2. Chapter 2

When the trumpets called the midnight a couple of hours later, I was still at the lesser free-men's celebration. I had ceased searching for wine early on; the conversations at the celebration were heady enough. 

Perhaps it was due to the mixture of guests. Free-servants, lesser palace officials, bottom-ranked soldiers, low-ranked palace guests, wives and children from the city . . . all mixed with each other indiscriminately. By mutual unspoken consent, nobody asked the stranger he met what his title was. It was as though rank-obsessed Emor had suddenly turned into rank-careless Koretia for one night. 

With no new information to draw upon, the discussion of the enthronement events had subsided. Now general conversations concerning the Chara were occurring. Normally, Curtis had told me, the people would be speculating about the nature of the new Chara, but since James was far from new to his position as head of the Emorian Empire, Lord Neville's free-servant was now taking part in a conversation concerning one's duties toward the Chara. 

"Yes, of course, loyalty toward one's master is of tremendous importance," Curtis was saying to a soldier with whom he had been talking, "but a servant must keep in mind his highest duty. If his master breaks the law, then the servant's duty is to support the law, not his master." 

"I suppose that you must be talking about what happened five years ago," said the soldier. He waved a cup in his hand, nearly spilling it on the Daxion bard who was playing nearby; that bard had kept my thoughts on Perry throughout the celebration. "You mean the way that we all supported the Chara Peter when he made it clear that he wanted to execute his High Lord. Of course, the Chara never would have acted that way if he hadn't been the victim of the crime; everyone knows that he always believed Lord Carle to be his most loyal subject. One night in bed with the Chara's Consort couldn't make Lord Carle into a demon of disloyalty, but the Chara Peter was too blind with anger to see that. And we all made it worse by supporting the Chara's actions when we should have seen that he was departing from the law in his judgment." 

Curtis had listened to all of this while chewing on his bottom lip. Now he said quietly, "I see what you mean. The Chara Peter wasn't the master I had in mind, but what you say is very true. The Chara isn't just the embodiment of the law; he's a fallible man. And when a ruler departs from the law, his subjects are duty-bound to follow the law rather than him. It was the Chara Peter who really broke the law in the worst way, not his High Lord, and anyone who had known Lord Carle for any length of time should have known that he was enduring an injustice and taken his side, rather than have been fool enough to support the Chara when he was wrong." 

The conversation was taking place in the free-servants' dining hall, where the bodies were jammed close together and the room was filled with the smell of sweat and wine and perfume from the city women – and a few eunuchs. So fascinated was I in the conversation taking place that I did not see the path that had opened up in front of us; nor did I notice the man who had come close enough to hear what was being said. 

The two men and I sighted him simultaneously. The soldier, demonstrating a belief in strategic retreats, promptly melted back into the crowd. Curtis, suddenly gone pale, bowed low to the High Lord. 

Lord Carle walked past him as though he did not exist and said to me in a quiet voice that could not be heard by those near us, "I bear a summons from the Chara, Princess. He wishes to see you in his quarters." 

I nodded mutely and tried to move away quickly, but Lord Carle had already turned back toward his former free-servant. Curtis was now drained of all face-color, but he withstood without flinching the High Lord's long, silent scrutiny of his face. After a moment, Lord Carle said softly, "I understand from the Koretian Ambassador that you are considering leaving Lord Neville's service." 

Curtis, who must have known Lord Carle well enough not to be reassured by the sound of his soft voice, said in a quavering tone, "Yes, High Lord." 

There was another silence, during which several drops of sweat made their way down Curtis's face, but he continued to stand as stoically as a soldier remaining at a perilous post. Finally Lord Carle said, in a voice closer to normal, "I will be in need of a new free-servant next year; Publilius does not like the idea of spending most of his time in the country after I retire from the High Lordship. If you would be interested in such a position, come by my quarters tomorrow evening so that we can discuss the matter." As Curtis stared, Lord Carle narrowed his eyes and added softly, "Of course, you realize that anyone who takes up service with me is immediately tainted with scandal and dishonor." 

This time Curtis succeeded in keeping his voice even. "I would consider it an honor to be your servant, Lord Carle." 

"Then I will expect to see you tomorrow." Without a word, Lord Carle turned and began making his way back through the crowd. I followed, but looked back once over my shoulder at Curtis. He had his fist against his mouth. On his face was the shock of a man who cannot believe his good fortune. 

The free-servants' dining hall was in the central portion of the palace, next to the inner garden. We made our way down the corridor that overlooked the inner garden, passing several windows with moonlight spilling through them like bright shadows onto the floor. 

I stole a look at Lord Carle's hard face. With more patience than I had known I possessed, I had spent the past weeks slowly eliciting from the High Lord all that lay behind his infamous cruelty. I had heard tales of his friendships with the late Chara Peter and the previous Chara, stories of Lord Carle's life as a young soldier in the Emorian army, and the chilling recital of how his closest friend during those years – a Koretian – had been pulled against his will into a Koretian blood feud. I had also listened, opened-mouthed, as the High Lord described his boyhood efforts to help a slave who was being abused by Lord Carle's father. But despite all these revelations, Lord Carle had continued to act formally toward me, and not since our conversation at his country home had he made reference to Andrew. 

Now he said, "The hardest-working servant I ever owned was Lord Andrew. He was insolent, defiant, and sly, but one thing I could always count on was that, when all the other slave-servants had finished their work for the day, he would still be at his duties, completing some task. He never liked to leave anything half-finished." 

We reached a crossing of corridors, where one corridor went off to the left toward the back of the palace. Lord Carle paused, placed his arm in front of me to prevent me from going forward, and looked around the corner. I followed his lead and saw a cluster of dark-skinned people standing in the corridor. I could make nothing of what was happening. 

Lord Carle did not enlighten me. Instead, leaning against the wall with more ease than I had seen in him before, he said, "Industry is a quality I admire. Nonetheless, as the Chara Peter learned to his cost, it can be carried too far. I hope, now that you are married to Lord Andrew, that you can persuade him to take periods of rest in between his very useful missions on behalf of the Chara and the Jackal and this mysterious god of his. I have already lost one friend because of his overwork and stress; I do not want to lose another." 

A rustling came from the corridor. I began to look around the corner again, but was neatly cut off by Lord Carle's arm as he shifted it. Keeping his gaze fixed on me rather than the scene in the corridor, he said, "On behalf of the Great Council of Emor, Princess, let me congratulate you on your marital alliance. On behalf of myself, let me congratulate on your good judgment. Lord Andrew's good judgment is so obvious that I felt no need to point it out to him." 

He was giving me, for the first time, a touchingly odd, crooked smile; the left half of his lips remained where they were, while the right half turned up. I had been told by Brian that Lord Carle's smile was once as dreaded by palace dwellers as the look of the Chara, but whatever darkness had sullied the smile in those days had evidently been purged. The final result – a charming, luring look – was kept well hidden for special moments such as this. I could see what had caused Curtis to long for Lord Carle's company during these past five years. 

I said, "Would I offend you horribly if I asked you to call me by my name?" 

Lord Carle's smile deepened. "I believe, Serva, that you and I are now kin, at least as the Koretians reckon it; Andrew and I are wine-friends, the Emorian equivalent of us being blood brothers. It would be discourteous of me not to address a kinswoman in the proper manner." 

He was still gazing at me, not the corridor, but in the next moment, he suddenly swept me against the wall, pinning me back with his arm and shielding me from sight by his body. I was vividly reminded of a similar scene in the black border mountains. 

Though I was shielded from the view of the people walking down the corridor, I could see them as they passed. It was the Daxion party: the Prince, the Bard, the clerk, the High Lady, and their servants carrying travel packs. They passed without seeing us, but I do not think that Richard would have noticed me in any case. His head was tilted high, and his royal diadem caught torchlight, sending sparks to dance on the walls. But his face was bleaker in its expression than a wind-stormed night. His eyes, I saw in a momentary glimpse, were glazed over, like those of a man in his sickbed. 

I let out my breath after they had passed. "What has happened? The Prince looks as though he has seen his death shadow." 

"The Chara has expelled the Daxions from this land." Carle's smile had disappeared. "He has given them enough time to reach the Border Port. After that, he is withdrawing his peace oath and his alliance." 

"But _why_?" I exclaimed as we started forward again, keeping a safe distance from the retreating figures ahead. "Surely not because of what happened at the enthronement. I would never have attended if I'd known that my presence would cause trouble." 

"The expulsion was ordered after your cousin refused to apologize for several virulent curses he directed toward your husband while in the Chara's presence," replied Carle. "However, there is more to the matter than that. The Chara will explain it to you himself." The High Lord turned off into a small corridor to the right. "We had best take the shortcut through the inner garden. There is a tremendous crowd in front of the Chara's quarters, waiting to see what this is all about." 

We emerged at the northeast corner of the inner garden. Though only a crescent moon hung in the sky, the inner garden was bright from the lights of the rooms overlooking the inner garden. Everyone was still awake in the palace, and conversation and music spilled out onto the still, dark courtyard. A slight figure moving toward a door further down caught my eye. 

"Perry!" I cried, and started to move forward. 

Carle caught my arm. "The Chara has summoned you to his presence," he reminded me severely. 

"But—" I stopped. I had seen that Perry was not alone; he was accompanied by Brian, who was talking to him as they went. Perry had his harp uncased in his hand. As he reached the exit, he ran his fingers lightly over the strings, as though speaking in reply. Then he disappeared into the corridor, and only the echo of his music remained. 

o—o—o

"You wished to see us, Chara," said Carle, and gave a low bow. 

I looked over at the High Lord with my brow furled. Much as Carle loved formality, I had never before seen him bow to the Chara in private. But when I looked back at James, I saw that he was accepting the bow without even rising to his feet, and I understood for the first time how serious this meeting was. 

"Please be seated, Princess, High Lord." Sober-faced, James waved us into chairs. I sat where he indicated, not daring to go over and stand by Andrew, who was watching all this expressionlessly. 

The Ambassador – my husband, I forcefully reminded myself – was standing next to a window that faced south. He was therefore framed by a view of the black border mountains. Through the window, I could hear the sound of two celebrations mingling: singing from the slave-quarters, and harp music from the lesser free-men's celebration. 

Since no one appeared prepared to break the silence, I said, "Lord Carle told me that you've expelled the Prince and his party from Emor. I hope that wasn't because of what happened at the enthronement. It really wasn't the Prince's fault. I think he was shocked because of some news he had just heard—" 

"I understand what happened," James said, sitting motionlessly with his arms on the armrests of his chair. "Lord Andrew has explained the situation. Rulers, however, cannot afford to indulge in petty acts of personal revenge, particularly when they are guests in another land. I spoke a while ago to your cousin. I pointed out to him that, in questioning the enthronement arrangements, he had insulted me three times over: through you, since you are a guest at my palace; through the Koretian Ambassador, with whom Emor has strong ties; and through a direct insult to me, by refusing to accept the manner in which I and my council had chosen to order our enthronement guests." 

"What did he say to this?" I was watching Carle covertly. I noticed that his gaze kept drifting away from the Chara's face, as though he feared what he might see there at the next moment. 

James's judgment, though, revealed itself only through the stillness with which he sat. "He told me that there was more to the story than I knew. I told him that I had long since guessed as much, and I suggested to him that this was not the witness he ought to offer in his defense." 

I looked over at Andrew with bewilderment. Without looking my way, he said, "Perhaps you should start further back in the tale, Chara." 

James glanced at him. Something about the look that was exchanged between the two men caused James to relax. In the next moment, he had stood up and was unclasping his formal cloak, which he was still wearing. Francis, who had seemingly been hovering in waiting for this moment, came forward from the doorway to his sleeping chamber and helped the Chara to remove his cloak. 

"Well, I won't bore you with a long recitation of my suspicions, because that's all that they were," James said to me. "It seems, however, that I am not the only one in the Three Lands who has been trying to dig into Richard's motives for his actions against you. When Dunne returned from alerting the Koretian party to the storm, he gave me a letter from the Jackal which Koretia's High Lord had been ordered to deliver to me before my enthronement. The Jackal's thoughts in that letter are surprisingly close to my own thoughts – as well as to those of Lady Elizabeth." 

"Lady Elizabeth?" I said with surprise. 

Carle had risen at the same moment that the Chara did and was now watching Francis remove the Sword of Vengeance from James's belt. He said, "The High Lady paid me a visit upon my return to the palace. She told me that the council had asked her to speak with you and try to discover whether your cousin's reasons for wishing to capture you were more than personal. She says that her conversation with you yesterday confirmed what she had begun to suspect. She blamed herself for not recognizing earlier where this was leading. She said that she ought to have come to know you better when you were a slave, rather than allowing your father and his Bard to be the only nobles in Daxis who were aware of your possible destiny." 

"My possible—" I stopped short, aware suddenly of the three men staring at me with intensity. Even Francis cast a quick look my way before leaving the room with James's cloak and sword in hand. 

Carle remained standing as James reseated himself. The High Lord's fingers were perched delicately atop a law book lying on a table next to him. "The High Lady asked me to convey to you, should this topic be raised, the support of her council should you wish to make a claim for the Daxion throne." 

There was a long silence. 

"Oh, no." I said this softly, shaking my head in an attempt to disperse the horror I felt. "Is that what she thinks the Prince fears? She has it all wrong. The Prince was afraid that I would marry Andrew and that Andrew would claim the Daxion throne. That's why Richard was so furious when he heard of our marriage." 

"So he tried to imply during our meeting." James was leaning forward in his chair, his tunic silver-bright in the night's lamplight. "But if that had been the case, I would have expected the Prince – I will not call him King – to have directed his attention toward Lord Andrew during all these months. I would not put it past the Prince to kill the Koretian Ambassador if he thought that the Ambassador was the only threat to his throne. Instead, it appears that the Prince did not feel that Lord Andrew's death would resolve the matter; rather, he appears to have felt that you were his greatest threat." 

"Andrew and I have discussed this before," I said patiently. "The Song of Succession says that I cannot inherit the throne. And no, wait – I know what you're going to say next, but the forbidden passage in the Song of Succession isn't about the King or Queen. It's about the Consort." 

"It's about both, actually." 

In the silence that followed James's quiet words, there was a knock at the main door to the Chara's quarters; then Brian slipped inside. In the brief moment that the door was open, I glimpsed the great crowd that had gathered in the corridor outside, and I heard their raised voices. Then the door closed, and the chamber fell into silence once more. 

Alerted by the sound, Francis looked in briefly to see who the new visitor was before he returned to his watchful post in the back of the Chara's quarters. James asked, "Do you have it written down?" 

Brian nodded. "I had Perry sing it three times so I could be sure that I'd scribed it correctly." 

He passed a piece of paper over to James, who said, "You'd better give it to Lord Andrew. He's the only one in this room besides yourself who can read Ancient Daxion." 

"Wait." I discovered that my voice was shaking, and I took a deep breath before continuing. "Are you saying that Eulalee has revealed to Perry the forbidden song?" 

"Not exactly." James hesitated and looked over at his clerk, who was handing the paper to Andrew. Andrew glanced at the sheet, then walked over to the Chara's writing table, picked up a pen, and began adding words to the sheet. 

Brian turned to me and said, "While the Chara was talking to the Prince, he sent me to my quarters to fetch some papers, and there I found Perry awaiting me. He told me that he decided three days ago to sing the Song of Succession in honor of the Chara's public enthronement. So he sought out a place in the palace where he would not be heard, and then he stayed there, singing the song. He said that after he had done this, something made him start the song again . . ." Brian drifted to a halt and looked over at Andrew, who had just finished writing on the paper. 

Andrew looked over at me. His face was just as repellently cold as it had been at the first moment I met him, and his words were clipped short as he said, "He decided to invent the forbidden passage." 

It was at that moment that I saw where all this was leading me. I felt a great impulse to rush from the room and hide myself, as Perry had hidden himself. Andrew's gaze remained fixed on me; I knew that, whatever the other men in the room might know, he alone understood the implications of what Perry had done. 

I said slowly, "The Jackal asked him to invent a song." 

Standing stiffly beside the writing table, Andrew said, "I'm not sure that even now Perry realizes what the Jackal was inviting him to do. At any rate, when Brian brought Perry here, Perry was excited simply because he had managed to invent a passage, and he was sure that the passage came from the Song Spirit. When Brian told him I was here, Perry wanted me to hear what he had composed." 

"We all listened to the song," said James. "I think it is safe to say that this is the first time in Emorian history that a bard has held an audience here completely captive. The Prince . . ." He looked over Carle, and for the first time that night his impish smile appeared. 

Carle did not smile, but there was a hint of amusement to his eyes as well. "The Prince was sure that Perry had composed the missing lines out of his own fancy. At least, he was sure of this until Perry began singing them. I never thought," he said reflectively, "that a soldier of the Prince's stature could look so unnerved." 

There was a snickering sound from Brian, who quickly turned it into a cough and covered his hand with his fist. James was grinning broadly now. He said, "To give credit to the Prince, he didn't deny that Perry had sung the true forbidden passage. He simply argued that we were interpreting the song incorrectly. It's a question of gender, as I understand it." 

"Noun gender," Brian replied promptly. "That is to say, the fact that there is no noun gender in Ancient Daxion; the words for King and Queen are the same. That, as well as an unspecified pronoun, make the passage's meaning ambiguous." 

"Thus fulfilling my long-held belief that no oracle from a god can ever bring anything but strife," said Carle. "However, I would say that the Princess has shown great restraint in waiting to hear the passage. Ambassador?" 

Andrew picked up the paper, but instead of reading it himself, he handed it to Brian. "I placed a translation into modern Emorian at the bottom of the page, using the feminine gender throughout," he said. "The Chara may wish to hear it translated again." 

"I fear my singing voice isn't good enough to sing the passage, Chara," said Brian. Then he read the passage aloud, following the lilting lines rapidly with the Emorian translation that Andrew had prepared: "'And there shall come a Consort who shall be married to the Queen in the Spirit, for those who are born in the Spirit find strength in her peace. And this Consort shall be a great peacemaker, and shall bring the truth of the Spirit to those who cannot hear her voice, so that the lands and their peoples may be bound together by their service to the goddess's law. But for those who have broken the law of the Spirit, and keep their face turned from the goddess, there can be no peace.'" 

The passage echoed in my head – in Daxion, in Emorian, and in the Koretian through which the Unknowable God had spoken these final words to me nine months before, by way of the Jackal. Then, as the languages of the Three Lands mingled in my mind, I looked over and saw Andrew watching me with passionless eyes. 

"The Consort shall be a great peacemaker . . ." I fell silent, and then said, "The passage doesn't indicate whether the ruler or the Consort is the one born in the Spirit." 

"That's the ambiguity in the passage," said James. "The Prince tried to argue that you were the Consort referred to in the song. He said that it was for this reason that King Leofwin wished him to marry you in the Spirit, and that it was for this reason, among others, that he himself hoped to make you his Consort. He said that you have already fulfilled the goddess's prophecy by bringing her song to the Koretians and the Emorians during your travels." 

"It could be true," I said hesitantly. 

Andrew shifted slightly in his place. He said in Daxion, so softly that only I could hear him, "It might have been true – if Perry had not been the one to invent the passage." 

Not hearing Andrew speak, James overlapped his words by saying, "It might have been true in your father's case. Perhaps King Leofwin was only worried that another man would marry you and become Daxis's ruler in Prince Richard's place. But I think that the Prince has known all along that you are not the Consort mentioned in the song. I think that he has been struggling all these months to convince you to marry him so that, if the worst happened and you claimed the throne, he could still retain power by being your peacemaking Consort." 

I stared down at the tiles, turned blood-red under the reflection of the hearth-fire. "He nearly did," I said softly. "If he'd only told me the truth last night, I might have married him. It wouldn't have mattered to me which of us held the throne. All I wanted was someone who would give me the truth." 

"Instead he gave you false witness." It was Carle who spoke, his voice turned dark. "And this is the man who hoped to become the Consort who brought his goddess's truth to others. Now he has found his role usurped by a man notorious for his deception and treachery – at least, that is the mask which the Ambassador wears to the world. But those of us who have had the mixed pain and pleasure of working with him know the true manner in which the Ambassador fulfills the strictures of the law-structure." 

Andrew was now standing with his head bowed so that I could no longer see his face; his hands were hidden behind his back. I felt my throat close shut like a gate. I said, "Andrew will always be an ambassador between the Unknowable God and his people, whether or not he becomes Consort. But it's absurd to talk of me becoming the Queen. I've been a slave most of my life . . . I have no training for this work . . . " 

James folded his legs up against his body in one of those artless gestures that often served to remind me of how young he was. "I became Chara two months before my sixteenth birthday," he said quietly. "My training consisted of one year as a village baron and half a year as a council lord. Somehow, I've managed to hold the throne despite this fact. But I've often thought that, if anyone had told me what my destiny would be, I would have arranged things better. What I would have liked to have done is to have grown up in the palace like all of the other Charas did, watching the previous Chara do his work. Then, a few months before my enthronement, I would have journeyed around the Three Lands, travelling through Emor and Koretia and Daxis, getting to know the people and having the opportunity to meet their rulers. Mind you, I doubt that any ruler in the history of the Three Lands has ever had the opportunity to partake of such an ideal education." 

James ended his speech with a smile. I began to wonder how much had been decided in my absence, and whether any choice would be left to me. Desperately, I said, "You don't realize what you're asking me to do. If the Prince has refused to accept the song's meaning, then he will fight to defend his throne, just as you fought to defend yours. You're asking me to go to war against my own cousin." 

"You will have Emor's support if you choose to do so – and Koretia's as well, no doubt," said James quietly. "But I assure you, Princess, I do realize what choice we are giving you." And briefly, for no more than the space of an eye's blink, I glimpsed the stone-faced look of the Chara. 

My hands curled round the rigid edge of my armrests. I felt coldness travel through my body, as though I had been plunged into the blizzard in the black border mountains. Once my breath had returned, I said, "Thank you. Your warning is better than Lord Carle's was." 

James smiled faintly in reply. After a moment, it occurred to me that Carle might take offense at what I had said, but when I looked over at the High Lord, he said quietly, "I do not think that there is anyone in this room, Princess, who does not realize the difficulty of the decision you are facing. As I once told the Chara Peter when he was still a boy, no one could blame a royal heir who decided that such duties were too burdensome to be endured. It is for you alone to make the choice." 

I stood up abruptly then, so abruptly that I felt my head spin with dizziness. Swaying slightly, I said, "Will you excuse me, Chara? I need to go and think about what you have said." 

"Naturally," said James. "You may want to go out by way of the inner garden again; I doubt that the crowd has thinned outside since you arrived. Brian, could you go into the corridor and distract the crowd with some announcement, so that they don't notice the Princess slipping back to her chamber?" 

I left the Chara discussing the matter with his clerk as I walked past the doorway to Francis's chamber – from which Francis gave me a quick smile – and entered the Chara's sleeping chamber, which faced toward the inner garden. I had just reached the door leading to the passage to the garden when I felt a touch on my elbow. I turned to see that Andrew had slipped silently up to my side. 

"Andrew, they think I can decide this matter myself!" I said, speaking in a frantic whisper since the sleeping-chamber door was still open. 

"I know," he said softly. "They don't understand Daxion law. Go to the hidden passage – you'll find him there. But wait—" He touched me gently as I turned to go, and I looked back at him. There was no light in this room, and his face was hidden in the shadows, but I heard the coldness disappear from his voice like melting water at springtime. "I wanted to tell you that I'll help you with whatever you decide," he said. "If you don't want to fight the Prince, you needn't worry that you'll come to harm from him. We can go up north beyond his reach, and I can show you what I've seen of the mainland. Enough land exists there to explore for a hundred lifetimes. After all, I'm the authority on living in exile." I could read his wry smile through the sound of his voice. 

I think it was then that I knew what my answer would be. I lingered for a moment in the darkness, caught up by the vision of Andrew and me wandering with cheerful abandon through the exotic lands of the mainland. Then I kissed Andrew lightly and went to the passage.  



	3. Chapter 3

The fire Andrew had lit had lasted all this while. Perry was sitting in its light, plucking the notes of his harp. He did not see me at first; he was hunched over his harp, repeating snatches of phrases. Then his head jerked up, and he stared at me over the flames. 

"I don't recognize that song," I said, coming closer to the fire, for it was growing weak. 

Perry backed away from the flames as sparks shot up. "You weren't supposed to hear it yet. I'm inventing it for you and Andrew. It's a marriage gift." 

I knelt down next to the fire and looked over at Perry. Somehow he had a talent for always finding the portion of the room where his face lay half in shadow, half in light. I had a vivid memory of how I had first seen him in the previous spring: the sensitive mouth, the shy eye, the beautiful skin and hair, and hidden from casual search, the cruel wounds of the fire. 

I smiled at him and was rewarded as he came to sit next to me, laying the harp aside. I said, "Andrew told you, then." 

"Not exactly." 

The hesitancy in his voice caused me to look over at him. He carefully avoided my gaze. 

I felt my face grow warm. "You weren't here before, were you?" 

"Only afterwards," he said quickly. "I mean . . . I was asleep all the way in the back, in the room that glows. Underneath the altar," he added, as I opened my mouth. "There's a hollow space there – you have to go round to the other side of the altar to see it. I like sitting under furniture." He appeared rather shamefaced at this confession, so I made a sound to encourage him to say more. "I dreamt again that dream I told you about, the one with the song in it. I recognized the tune this time – it was the Tale of the Song Twin. So I went to tell you." 

"Go on," I said, feeling as hot as I had since coming north. 

"I saw you and Andrew— You weren't doing anything, you were just lying on the floor with a cloak on top, talking. But I could see what had happened, so I came back here and waited for you to leave. And while I was waiting, I invented the forbidden passage in the Song of Succession. That's all." 

"That's quite enough, Jackal's thief," I said, trying to cool my face by placing it against my bent knees. "I hope you weren't planning to compose your marriage-gift song around that tale." 

Perry was smiling as he looked down at the ground; he shook his head. For a while, I stared silently at the red and golden flames eating at the peat. Then I asked, "Do you mind?" 

Perry looked over at me in innocent surprise. "Of course not. Why should I?" 

I tried to gather up the words to tell him, but in the meantime he had reached his own conclusions about what I meant. He traced his finger across the floor, writing Koretian letters. "I suppose you'll travel with him from now on," he said. 

"I don't think I'm the type to spend my life travelling," I said, avoiding a full answer. "He can travel, and I'll stay at home. Whenever we meet, we'll have a great deal to talk about. We'll never become bored with each other." 

"Home," Perry murmured. I looked over at him and saw that he was writing the Koretian word for jackal. 

"You miss Koretia, don't you?" I said. 

"I miss John." His voice was muffled against his bent knees. "I've dreamt of him every night for the past month. I want to see him again." 

I watched him, thinking that my home was only on the other side of the mountain from his home. But even so . . . "Perry, would you like us to return to the Jackal's palace? I doubt I'm any safer here than in Koretia. We could stay with John if you'd like." 

"No." Perry's voice was very faint. 

"Why not?" 

Perry put his left hand down blindly to his harp. "There's no one to sing to there." 

I felt a weight upon my heart, as though I had imprisoned there a dark and heavy song that I dared not sing. I don't think that, in all my life, I was ever closer to disobeying the command of the Song Spirit. But it was my duty to begin this trial. I stood up and went to stand on the other side of the flames, opposite the doorway I had entered through and opposite Perry. He looked up at me with mild surprise. 

"Perry," I said, discovering too late that my mouth was dry, "you gave Brian the missing words to the Song of Succession. Do you know what they mean?" 

Perry shook his head. I said, "They mean that Andrew is the Consort and—" 

Perry waited a moment for me to finish before saying hesitantly, "Then you are the Queen? You're the ruler of Daxis, rather than the Prince?" 

"I'm not sure." I realized that I was about to lapse into a whisper. Taking everything I had learned from watching the Jackal and the Chara at their work, I finished firmly, "I can't decide that alone, you know. I need someone else's help in order to make that decision." 

Perry's lips parted. His face was starkly clear across the flames, one half dead, the other living. I saw the moment that he recognized the sacrifice I was asking him to offer. Then he dipped his gaze, mercifully saving me from seeing any more of the pain in his eye. 

Wrapping his arms around his knees like a harp-string bound too tight, he stared down as he whispered, "Please leave me." 

I turned and walked into the darkness behind me, moving as quickly as I could through the passage that I could not see, until I reached the golden courtroom. I turned then and leaned my back against the softly glowing wall, my eyes on the dark doorway opposite. I thought to myself that no one could have warned me what this was like. I had heard John and James speak of what it was like to condemn prisoners, I had seen Andrew offer Perry up as a sacrifice, but no one had told me that it required this, that I should die the worst death of all. 

I waited, and presently I heard drifting down the passageway the soft sound of Perry crying. 

I stared up. Above the golden, glowing walls, the ceiling stones were blue-green, which reminded me of the valleys we had travelled through on our way to reach Emor. They were jagged and flecked with black specks and gave off just enough light to see the objects around me: an abandoned cobweb dangling from the ceiling, a few pieces of blank paper that Perry must have brought with him and left behind, and – my eyes drifted over to the doorway again – Perry, his harp under his arm and his eye filled with anger. 

I caught my breath but did not say anything. I was remembering James's tale of how he had only survived his private enthronement because of his rage against Lord Carle. Perry came to stand next to the wall beside me. His eyebrow was still furled down over his dark eye, but his left hand had shifted in readiness. After a final moment spent glaring at me, he dropped to one knee. His right hand touched the strings, and his face cleared in readiness. 

This time I remembered to swallow before speaking. I steadied my hand behind my back; then placed it firmly on Perry's shoulder and said, "Sing to me the Song of Succession." 

My part was played; I waited to see what would happen. Under my hand I could feel no movement from Perry, not even the trembling I would have expected. His gaze remained linked with mine, and I found myself staring harder into the dark eye before me. Then, all of a sudden, it came, like a wind that has been channelled into an enclosed space, or a wave that breaks the cliffside. It was all around us, enwrapping us, penetrating us, and in the final moment it became us. We were her and she was us; I felt my vision open, and I saw all that I had witnessed in my travels: prison, passion, fire, water, compassion, wonder, my destiny— 

The feeling became too great for me, and I heard myself gasp. Then the awareness dimmed, and all that I knew now was Perry's voice, singing within me and without me, linking both of us with the Song Spirit whose Voices we were. 

Perry was as fixed as a rock. It was I who was shaking, and I realized how the experiences of his life had prepared Perry so much better for his role than I for mine. I kept my hand on his shoulder, feeling the solid bone beneath his soft flesh. Gradually I allowed the awareness within me to take hold once more until my thoughts were those of the Song Spirit. 

It was as though I were drawing myself into a womb, breaching boundary after boundary as I went deeper. First I was a slave playing the part of a princess by bringing succor to the wounds of a man who was my enemy. I entered the cell and saw this man sitting motionless on the floor, giving what little had not been taken from him in order to help another. I knew that the wounds of his clipped wings could not be healed by anyone except me – and only if he had the courage to lie still and endure my painful touch. 

Then I was Queen Serva, using what talents I had been given by the gods to care for my people. And at the same time I was the Queen, the goddess-woman who was both a human named Serva and a goddess named the Song Spirit, our two wills joined together as one, sometimes dwelling separate, sometimes linked together in such a way that we became one being, like the union that takes place between a husband and wife. 

Then I was only the Song Spirit, a fragment of the Unknowable God/dess, bringing joy and peace and pain to those who served me. I spoke my words to the great bards of Daxis, as well as to the ordinary Daxions who knew me through the bards. But beyond the confines of the land I was created to rule, I could sense my other servants as well. I reached down to where one such servant sat: a Koretian man who had been burnt by the fire of my brother-god the Jackal, and who had found the courage to reach beyond his pain and listen to my song for the first time. I felt the longing in him transform into a silent pledge of service, and so I took him from the care of the Jackal and made him my own. 

And then there was one boundary left, a boundary I knew I would never breach completely because the Unknowable God/dess is known only to themself. But before I – woman, goddess-woman, goddess – could see through the eyes of the Unknowable God/dess and do that which only they could do, there must be a witness to my enthronement. And so I returned to my previous boundary and became simply human once more. 

I was standing in a dimly lit enclosed space that seemed so very small after my journey. Perry was kneeling before me, singing the words that the Song Spirit had sent through me. His face was now transformed, as it always was, and all the pain of his life was gone for this short while. Listening, I realized that we were reaching the end of the Adversaries section of the song, and I had time enough only to think two quick thoughts. One was that I would have to ask Perry later what the Spirit had bid him sing about my father, and the other was that I could not be sure of my future until I had seen whether there was a witness to this song. 

The song ended, its last notes reverberating down the passage. I looked down at Perry, who had not attempted to move himself away from my hand. He was staring up at me with his mouth open and his eye filled with fear and wonder. Then I turned my head and saw Andrew standing at the doorway. 

There was awe in his eyes as well as he stared at me. He was in usual rigid, motionless pose; for a moment, it seemed as though nothing had changed since we first met. But at that moment, without knowing whether I had called upon my new powers or whether those powers had made the decision for me, my vision shifted. I found myself standing on a mountainside, watching an eight-year-old boy run down the slope toward me. 

His face was alive with energy, and he was laughing as he ran. He looked swiftly over his shoulder to see whether someone was following; then he spread his arms on both sides and leaped lightly over a log in his way, like an eagle testing its wings. 

The scene shifted, and now he was standing in a dimly lit enclosed space, holding a dagger whose tip was stained with his vowed blood. He said casually, in his high-pitched boy's voice that contained no restraint or curtailment, "I don't know what sort of sacrifice the god would like me to make, so I'll let the god choose whatever he wants. I'll give him anything I have." 

A voice near him spoke softly. Andrew laughed and said confidently, "I'm not afraid. I know that the god won't take anything from me that I truly need, and you may be sure I'll make good use of whatever he leaves me." 

I stood there, the god/dess of no land and no boundaries, and I heard the words which the boy spoke of his own free will. So I reached out at that moment and took from him all that was dearest to him, as well as that which he did not even value because he did not realize that it was possible to live without it. I left him only with the strength and courage he would need to fight his way beyond the pain that would follow, and then I stood back to see whether he would use that strength to destroy himself and others or to serve me in a way that no one else was capable of doing. And as I took the sacrifice from the unsuspecting boy, he twirled in his place, like a bird hovering in the air. 

Then I reined in my godly powers and submerged them deep within my womb, so that, until I needed them again, I would be no more than an ordinary woman. And at the same moment, I moved the powers I had taken from the boy and submerged them deep inside him, so that they would always be there, though he could never again show them to the world. 

The vision faded. Nothing was left except Andrew, standing in rigid motionlessness and wearing the faint curl of the lips that was now the strongest smile he was capable of making. 

I felt a dizziness in my head, and I momentarily forgot who I was. Then I remembered: I was Serva, who held within me the power that ruled the Three Lands, but for now was no more than a slave-woman who had suddenly become a queen. I stepped over to my husband, and he looked down at me as our fingers linked together; then his gaze drifted over to Perry. 

Perry was still standing where I had left him, shock on his face. Andrew said softly, "Perry?" 

"The dream," Perry whispered. 

"Yes," said Andrew quietly. "It came true. Was it as bad as you thought it would be?" 

"Worse," Perry said slowly. "Much worse. And much more wonderful. It was like dying and being given life in the same moment." 

"Serva has that effect on people." Andrew looked back at me. "I suppose that the rest of us will become used to it eventually, being around a goddess taken human form." 

"Andrew," I murmured, but spoke no further because he placed his fingers over my lips. 

"Are you tired?" he asked. 

"Exhausted," I said, brought to the realization. 

"I thought that you might be. Perry and I aren't tired, just terrified. This is the expression I wear when I'm terrified; you must believe me." 

I laughed then and said, "What called you here? The Song Spirit?" 

Andrew shrugged with his free hand. "I suppose that she did, but she used a human means for her message. I came to give you the latest news on the Prince." 

My breath caught. I released my hand from Andrew's and said steadily, "Tell me." 

Andrew stepped back and looked round the chamber, his eyes coming to rest on the altar, as though it would give him inspiration. "Eulalee was the one who sung me this tale. She says that, as the Prince and his party were leaving their quarters under escort, the Prince began to look more and more ill, and she began to worry about him. So when they reached the main door, she suggested to the Prince that they stop in the sanctuary so that she could sing him a song of healing." 

"Did the Chara's guards allow this?" I asked. 

"The guards had no orders except to see that the Daxion party reached the border within the time given by the Chara. James had allowed extra time for the sake of emergencies. So the Prince and his Bard went into the sanctuary, and Eulalee began singing her song, but after a short while, the Prince ordered her to stop and sing another song. This happened three times in a row. Finally Eulalee asked the Prince what was wrong. She said that the Prince had kept his face turned away all this while, but as she came forward she saw that Richard's face was as taut as a harp-string. She said that he whispered—" 

Andrew stopped. For a moment, there was no sound but silence in the passage – silence deeper than any I had ever heard. Then he said in a low voice, "The Prince whispered, 'I can't feel her.'" 

This time, I could hear a soft sound in the pause. I realized that it was my own, labored breath. "Spirit of Merciful Peace," I said. "The Song of the Disobedient Ruler." 

Andrew made no reply except to take hold of my hand again. Perry's harp slipped from his hand and landed on the floor, setting the strings vibrating. "You mean he couldn't sense the Song Spirit?" he said, his voice rising. "That power had been taken from him?" 

"Like most Koretians and Emorians," I said slowly. "They can't sense the Song Spirit either. But Andrew—" I turned back to him. "Any ordinary Daxion can feel the Spirit's presence in a song. Would the Song Spirit really have taken that much from him?" 

Andrew said softly, "I told you once that the Unknowable God is a god of vengeance in every land. In any case, you know the answer better than I do." 

I stared at him for a moment; then I remembered and gave a humorless smile. "I can't use my powers all of the time, you know, any more than John can. What happened after that?" 

"The Prince sent Eulalee from the sanctuary with two messages. One was for the Chara, requesting leave to stay in the sanctuary overnight. The Chara has granted Richard's request." 

"And the other message?" My hands were in fists. So, I noticed, were Andrew's hands – at least, one of them was. 

"The other message was for you." Andrew opened his fist. 

I stared for a moment before taking the object into my hand. Then my hand closed around it, and I buried my head in Andrew's shoulder. 

I didn't cry; I was too tired for that. But even so I felt ashamed as I pulled myself back. I said, "I'm sorry. I'm just so glad that I don't have to fight him." 

"What is it?" asked Perry. 

I held it up. "It's the royal seal-ring. He has ceded me the throne." 

Perry began to step toward the ring, and then he looked back at his harp. I knew the thought that was in his mind, for it had been in my mind as well, ever since Andrew finished his tale. A wind came forth— 

And I bound together time and space, so that three moments and three places came to me as one. As I did so, I saw the past and future as present. There, in the darkness before me, was John, sitting sleepless and alone in Perry's sleeping chamber in the Koretian palace, watching and listening as Perry sang the Song of Succession. As John heard the end of the song which had begun at my birth, he knew that Perry and Andrew and I had made our choices. He smiled quietly for our happiness, though he did not yet know whether he would see Perry again. 

And there in the same darkness was Andrew, raising his hand in the free-man's greeting. He was raising it in the cell of a palace dungeon, a common spy greeting a Prince, and at the same moment he was raising it in the guest chamber of a palace, a Consort greeting his lower-ranked cousin-in-marriage. 

I looked over at the Prince, and I saw that he was kneeling in the palace sanctuary, his face hidden in his hands as Eulalee watched him anxiously. Standing near him was the Queen of Daxis, touching her Bard as she bid him sing the Song of the Quarrelling Children. As she did so, the Spirit sent the song that would heal the Prince's wounds and bring peace to both her children. 

The vision faded. Perry was standing before me, his arm cradling his harp. "Shall we go now?" he asked. 

I knew that I had seen the future as it was happening, so I knew there was no longer any urgency in going to the Prince. So I said, "In a little while. I do want you to sing for Richard. First, though, I need to talk to the High Lady about Richard. Knowing her, I imagine that she envisions Richard's future as taking place in a dungeon cell. I . . . I have a different vision." 

Perry bit his lip and dipped his eyes. In a much softer voice, he said, "And after I sing to the Prince – what do I do then?" 

I stared at him blankly, uncertain of what he was asking me. Andrew quietly rephrased the question: "What is your command, my lady?" 

He asked this with the self-assured submission of a man who had been servant to the rulers of two lands, yet at times was the god's Ambassador, bringing them the god's commands. No doubt some time in the future I would hear the Spirit sing her song through his voice rather than mine, but for the moment he awaited my orders. I stared back at him, seeing the way in which he had breached the boundaries between ranks and land and genders, and wondering how it was that he had found the strength to do this – wondering also what peace I could give him in thanks for what he did. Then I found my voice and said, "We'll go to Koretia first, to visit John and tell him all that has happened. After that—" 

I stopped, realizing what command it was that Andrew was awaiting, what hope he had held for these many years. 

It was Perry, though, who completed our thought. "Home," he said softly. "We'll go home." 

o—o—o

_Oaths of loyalty given at the enthronement of Serva, Queen of Daxis, Voice and Servant of the Song Spirit;_

_This being the public ceremony, as the Queen's Marriage to the Land took place six months before:_  


> Grace, Free-Woman, representing the people of Daxis.
> 
> Dextra and Dexter, Free-Servants to the Queen. 
> 
> Sandy, Chief Guard to the Queen. 
> 
> Thome, Apprentice to the Queen's Bard, and his Free-Servant, Flavia. 
> 
> Brian, Royal Clerk to the Queen of Daxis and Scribe of this Chronicle. 
> 
> Elizabeth, High Lady of the Daxion Council. 
> 
> Perry, Bard to the Queen (oath given in song). 
> 
> Richard, Prince of Daxis, Subcommander of the Queen's Army.

  
_Andrew, Consort to the Queen, was not required to give an oath of loyalty, as it was deemed that his loyalty to the Queen and the Land is not in the law but in the Spirit._

o—o—o  
o—o—o

  


> "To remember love after long sleep; to turn again to poetry after a year in the market place, or to youth after resignation to drowsy and stiffening age; to remember what once you thought life could hold, after telling over with muddied and calculating fingers what it has offered; this is music, made after long silence. The soul flexes its wings, and, clumsy as any fledgling, tries the air again."
> 
> —Mary Stewart: _The Hollow Hills._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Beta readers:_ Katharine, [hpfan12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpfan12/), and [Kathleen Livingston](http://www.freelance-proofreaders.com/freelancers/kathleen-livingston.htm).
> 
> [Publication history](http://duskpeterson.com/cvhep.htm#surrender).
> 
> This story was originally published at [duskpeterson.com](http://duskpeterson.com). The story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Copyright © 2019, 2020 Dusk Peterson. Permission is granted for fanworks inspired by this story. Please credit Dusk Peterson and duskpeterson.com for the original story.


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